The End

Early morning truths

In the process of rebuking Thad this morning, the following took place:

Me: Thad. That is unacceptable! I will not have you doing that to my furniture.

Thad: YOUR furniture?! It's GOD'S furniture! EVERYTHING belongs to Him Mom!!!

What 's a mom supposed to do with that?!

Peez Mama...

Hudson's precious moment of the day:

"Peez put on my rainbow coat and I go outside and pay my byself. Ok Mama?"

(Please put on my raincoat so I can go outside and play by myself. Ok Mama?)

The sweet words of babes. Warms my heart!

God according to Thad

Here was today's revelation:

(...random discussion of David and Goliath...)

Thad: Yeah Hudson, because God is...He's just everything! He can make a lamp to His feet. Dude, He can make His feet LAMPS!!!

Now that's one powerful God my friends!

Can a girl get a break?

Taking the ok from my friend Christy and I'm gonna complain a minute about food...

You know those super convenient bagged salads? The ones you just dump out and, provided the date on the bag is accurate, you have a lovely salad in, oh say, 15 seconds? Well, I love them. Really love them. Eat-them-several-times-a-week love them. I've been trying to avoid eating the typical "toddler lunch" at my house and have been throwing all kinds of yummy things into those super handy, super convenient, super tasty (can ya tell I think they're SUPER) salads into a bowl and having at it.

To make them even more super, I've discovered they come in flavors. You heard me. Flavors. With all of the really cool add ins right in the bag! Feta cheese, sesame seeds, soy nuts, crasins, low fat dressing - your mouth watering yet?! Couple that with the fun little sales at Harris Teeter and you've got your self a SAHM's dream lunch!

With one big "but..."

They give me mouth ulcers. Big, yucky, long-lasting mouth ulcers. Hard to brush your teeth or eat anything acidic mouth ulcers. I discovered this years ago in high school when those really nifty little bags first came out but had completely forgotten until my mouth randomly exploded with ulcers 2 days ago.

Sad. Really sad I tell you. What's a girl to do?

Quick as a wink

I've been hesitant to post this due to the fear of hate mail, but I need to share my excitement:

Hudson is potty trained!

Just like that. All on his own. My sweet little 2 year old. He has done it! No more diapers, no pull ups, (not even the swell diaper covers sweet Holly let me borrow!) just ole fashioned undies for him.

This should do wonders for the grocery envelope!

The clothing envelope is another story...clothes don't fit quite the same without diapers and one pieces aren't very potty friendly. Never fear, the clothing exchanges and our MB outlet trip are just around the corner!

For now, the sweet bliss of diaper free living - at least for a while :)

Confessions of a sleepy mom

It's no secret that I am a lover of sleep. It's almost funny that the Lord has blessed me with a child who appears to need none. I posted before (click here) about our clock rituals for Thad, which have been a saving grace for me. As of late, I can't seem to shake the grumps at 7AM. Last night, I had an idea...

Thad loves the feeling of independence. Being the boss. Running the show. Ok, you get the picture. He also has a pretty predictable morning routine. I decided to use that to my advantage. I set up the proposition as I was tucking him in last night.

Hey Thad, wanna try a really cool big boy thing when you wake up in the morning?!

Sure Mom!

Ok, here's the deal. I'm gonna make your chocolate milk and brother's juice and put it in the fridge tonight. Before I go to bed, I'll set the TV to ___________ (an unnamed, appropriate kids channel). When you wake up, you and brother can camp out in the den and let Mom get a little more rest. It'll help me be sweeter in the morning for sure! Whatcha think?

Ok Mom. Sounds good!

With only a small interruption from Hudson, all went as planned! They quietly hung out and let Mommy rest - beautiful! I indeed woke more cheery and feeling more refreshed. This may become a Saturday morning ritual.

Potty training woes

Upon our return from our recent missions trip, our little one made the first move towards using the potty. He has been interested for a while, but I have been dragging my feet. It is just easier to go out in public with him in a diaper. Not cost effective, but easier.

No more. "Tee tee potty Mommy" is the new mantra at our house.

That's cool. I'm game. We tackled that task rather quickly and painlessly with kid #1, so I'm ready, right?

WRONG!!!

Thad was an equal opportunity accident haver. Anytime, any place, any attire. If he was gonna wet, he wet. We just set a timer for every 15 minutes (crazy, I know) and carted him off to the throne. Most accidents were cleared up within a week.

My sweet, precious dimpled Hudson is totally different. His little brain has quickly registered the bathroom signals and he relays the message to us, usually in time. With one large exception...if he has on any type of clothing, all bets are off. Diaper, undies, and training pants alike have all fallen victim to this exception.

The result? A stark naked baby. He is parading around the house and yard (back yard, of course) sans clothes and loving every minute of it!

Perhaps this is just a ploy to be naked...hmm...is he playing me? Am I being duped? Has my two year old constructed a masterful plan and succeeded?! AHH!!!

I digress...

We are praying potty training comes quickly, but in the mean time, don't stop by unless you are prepared to see our precious Streaker!

Leaving on a jet plane

As you may know, we are heading to Brazil on mission. Pray for Pa and me. Pray for our team. Pray that the Lord will go ahead of us and soften hearts for the Word.

Visit Pa's blog for updates over the coming days.

Ciao!

First things first

Don'tcha love it when God uses your kids to teach you a lesson? I mean to smack you right in the face with truth - that kind that makes you feel rotten and useless and undeserving of God's love.

Don't worry, this is not a pity party.  But it is a conglomeration of weeks worth of putting the pieces together, so bear with me! There is a pretty picture in the end.

(The great thing is that in His love and mercy, we aren't left to wallow in the mud. Nope He lifts us out, helps clean us off, and offers the opportunity for us to try again.  And again.  And again.)

There has been much spiritual talk around our house lately. I mean, we talk about God a lot, but some pretty deep thinking and mulling over has been going on. Pa is praying hard about his ministry to the youth and the church as a whole - what God's purpose is for him here. I've been praying hard about my role in his ministry - am I only supposed to be a mother during this season or has God carved out something more for me? We've been brainstorming, sharing ideas, dreaming of the "perfect" ways to reach out and touch the church for Christ; it's been pretty cool.  I have been doing some reading (I know, ME?! Reading and writing!  God MUST be moving in my life!)  and have gotten some great ideas about girls' ministry, moms' ministry, and ministry to parents of youth.   I have allowed myself to stay up at night and run through plans in my head.  I toss things out at Jason going 100 MPH just to try to process it all.  

But, it has been just that. Talk. Lots and lots of talk. No feet to the thoughts.

And it's driving me nuts.  You see, I'm a doer. Well, delegator really - I like to tell other people what to do and watch them do it.  Anyway, I like to see things DONE not just talked about.  

As of late, we have been in a period of waiting.  

Waiting for the green lights.  

Waiting for affirmation.  

Waiting.  

Waiting.  

Waiting.

So what's the hold up?  "I am so eager Lord.  I'm ready to do this thing.  Let's get on with it!"  

In true God-fashion, He answers me with a smack in the face. (He knows I'm stubborn too, so He leaves no room for questions or interpretations.  Just shy of writing it in the clouds...) And what better way to do that than with my beautiful children, right?

My boys are driving me nuts!  There are fighting one minute, laughing the next, and screaming at me moments later.  They have a very distinct love-hate relationship with each other (and me for that matter).  Thad is proving to be particularly testy, challenging everything from dinner plans to the underwear I've grabbed out of the basket.  No answer is simple.  No obedience is immediate or comes without a tussle.    I find myself yelling and speaking harshly.  Grumbling under my breath.  Arguing with a 4 year old!  I am indeed weary and heavy laden.  I am grumpy and complaining and have little time for positive interaction with my boys. Most of my time is eaten up with correction and redirection.  I'm plumb exhausted.

Now, what does this have to do with anything about ministry?

In my hurry to get something good going at church, I have let something better slip by at home.  I've been to the Word and other resources on behalf of my "public" ministry, but have totally neglected the most important - the ministry in my own house.  

The hold-up has been me.  I have been in God's way.  My self-sufficiency in parenting has all but blown up in my face.  My reliance on self has meant that God had to slow down my plans to get me back on track.  Praise Him for desiring to do so!

He's gotten my attention and is realigning my priorities.  Though I still have big dreams for the girls at our church and hopes of living them out soon, I am working on nurturing my own kids first.  I am studying a book called Equipped to Love by Norm Wakefield (WARNING: do not read it unless you are prepared to be radically changed) and praying that God will allow the truths from that book, (truths from God's Word pulled apart by the author of the book) to penetrate and change my heart.  

Will you join me in praying for a changed heart?  That the Lord will teach me to love my family with His love and not that of the world?  That I will stop looking for what I can get out of my loved ones and begin searching for what I can give?  That I will not seek fulfillment from anywhere other than my Creator?

Randomness...

I've set my homepage to this blog site and it was SCREAMING that I hadn't posted in a couple weeks - though not because I haven't been brewing one, just hadn't felt the urge just yet. So, for now, some random tidbits (or jiblets as I like to say).

We have been following a pretty standard routine around here: rise around 7 (STILL too early for my taste), breakfast of some sort, head to the ABCY (the Ledford's way of saying the YMCA), lunch/wind down/nap (save Thad who is boycotting strongly!) and whatever the weather allows by way of evening entertainment.

This week, we have been doing the VBS thing. Has thrown a slight wrench in the plan as I am pooped and fighting the grumps, but God is good! People have been pouring their hearts out to these kiddos and some are putting their trust in Christ - AWESOME!!!

We are preparing for our trip to Brazil - finalizing childcare arrangements, shopping, paperwork. Yesterday we visited the "Infectious Disease" peeps - we got a little more than we bargained for (which was getting shot up with anti-yellow fever drugs). After the 50 minute waiting room visit, the strong recommendation to avoid stray animals, unsealed water bottles, and prostitutes, we were finally given the shots and told to "hang out" for 15 minutes - did I mention we are having VBS this week and I was already almost 2 hours late?! Didn't aid the grumpy factor! All-in-all, great trip to the Dr. Geared up and ready to go now.

Highlight of the day. On the way to the Y, I hear Hudson mumbling in the backseat:
"Mommy, mommy, talk a me. Duckbill platypus!"
"Hudson, did you just say duckbill platypus?"
"Yea ma'am"
"Okay"
"See one Mommy. See one! Duckbill platypus!"

Uh...anyone? Anyone? My 2-year old would like to see a duckbilled platypus. Any suggestions would be greatly appreciated.

There is it, our randomness laid out for all to see. Hopefully a more well thought out post to follow.

Outfit of the day...

Just some evidence of my commitment!

Tilling the soil

I have come to realize that it is no good to weed out flower beds unless you intend to replace them with something more savory. So Thad and I have done just that. After much purging of the old, Thad picked out some lovely Marigolds to fill the space.



Thad with all his gear.



Making a "track" in the soil for the seeds.



A close-up of the seeds.



Dropping them in.



Lined up...



Getting some water (this is one of those new independent things...)



OOPS! The consequence of independence.




Grow flowers grow!


How cool to be able to include my son in this labor of love!

Lord I pray that you will begin to teach Thad now to allow you to invade his heart and till the soil. May he long to serve you all of his days.

To match or not to match

*****UPDATE*****
It was almost unanimous - let the boy dress himself. So, I have been and it is surprisingly liberating! I will still put my foot down for certain occasions, but plan to use them as teaching opportunities as well. Thanks for your input!

______________________________________________

So this post is a readers' poll - that instantly makes me laugh because I only know of like 2 readers, but none-the-less -

Thad has recently had an explosion of independence. He's now able to do things like turn on the spigot, get ice from the automatic dispenser, drag a stool to the cupboard and get out whatever he wants - you know those kinds of things. Some of them make me quite proud and, honestly, are very helpful. Others, well, not so much.

One in particular has placed me in quite a predicament - dressing himself. When he decides to actually wear clothes (you see nudity is the cool thing around here), he likes to pick them out and put them on himself. Wonderfully helpful when I am chasing around a quick footed, naked, potty-training 2-year old. So what's the problem you might ask. His fashion sense is, well, less than savory. I'm not talking slight fashion faux pas here people. I mean MAJOR law breaking.

In case you can't tell from this shot (the fact that I am working SUPER DUPER hard to convince my hubby that we need an awesome digital SLR is a whole 'nother post!) he is proudly wearing a loud striped T - backwards! - with pale plaid shorts.

So, what's a mom to do? Do I brag on him incessantly for taking the initiative to dress himself and simply overlook the hideousness of the outfit? Or, do I gently encourage him to find matching pieces and risk crushing the do-it-myself spirit he's exhibiting?

Your advice would be greatly appreciated!

Hudson's new clothes

This is the new normal around here...






Celebrating the joys of freedom...








And the "I just tee-teed on the potty" dance!

Oh the world of boys!

Weeds of the heart

I've recently begun developing a passion for gardening. Not the grow-your-own-food kind.  Just pretty flowers. Last spring I took on the task of expanding an existing bed. I did some research on killing grass and decided to combine several techniques. I sprayed the entire area with Round Up, lined the area with four layers of newspaper, and topped it off with a cherry, I mean gardening fabric. After bringing in new dirt, I planted my beauties and surrounded them with mulch. I was absolutely exhausted when I was finished, but it was the "good kind" of tired - you know, when you can stop and look at the product of your labor.  I enjoyed watching life spring from that beautiful new space last summer.

Then came fall with a crazy burst of crabgrass growth. You heard me - despite all of the preparation, the weeds still came. Once again I sprayed the area with Round Up, but the weather quickly grew too cold for this wimpy girl to be digging in the dirt. Assuming it would all die anyway, I left the dying weeds til warmer days.

Fast forward to last week. I had had it - the overgrowth of the crabgrass was taking away from the beauty of the plants in the bed. The butterfly bush was being choked out and was barely recognizable. The weather was great and the boys were napping, so I seized the moment. I donned my long sleeves and pants (to avoid the allergy mayhem that was sure to ensue) and set out to rid the bed of the crabgrass. I dug around in that bed for more than two hours - I haven't had such an intimate time with the Lord in months. As I was digging through the dirt, He began to quietly speak to my spirit. Your heart is much like this flower bed.

I learned a lot about crabgrass - I though I was going to go rip out all of the dead grass on the surface of the bed. I did and that task was relatively simple. The results were aesthetically pleasing. But the problem was much, much deeper. See, crabgrass "runs." What I mean is, it grows horizontally in really long pieces, sprouting roots at strategic points. It can quickly take over a space as it did mine. It also grows very deep roots. These aren't the nice give-it-a-big-yank-and-all-is-well kind of roots. These are thick, stubborn roots that grow deep into the ground. See, I told you this is like your heart. Lord, what do you mean?

Please know, that whole "Be still and know that I am God" thing, yeah, I STINK at that. I often feel a tugging in my Spirit that I know is from God, but this was more than a tug. This was being still and hearing His voice. 

Then it clicked. Much like that flower bed, I go through great seasons of preparation in my life. Attending seminars and conferences. Making plans and praying through details. I plant all kinds of beauties in my heart - staying at home with my kids, learning to be a submissive wife, being a better friend, exercising. But just like last summer, I sit and watch them, enjoying the brief season of blooms. As time passes, the weeds begin to grow - frustration with my spouse, selfish motives, anger with my children - and before long, that bed is overwhelmed with weeds. I may "spray the Round Up - confess, pray, resolve to do a better job - but ultimately, I wimp out. I decide it is too difficult and wait for a warmer season to weed. This is when the real damage is done. I have hardened my heart toward God and my family and become callous to my sin. The weeds begin to spread to all areas of my life and the deep roots begin to grow. Though the weeds may look dead on the surface - I can put on a darn good game face! - in my heart of hearts, I am choking. My new life with Christ is barely recognizable. I usually hit a breaking point when I resolve to pull out my tools and pull out some weeds, but I usually stick to the surface - that's where the results are most easily seen. My life looks better and for a time, I feel better. But the roots are still there, waiting to spring forth with new life.

I began to dig deeper and deeper into the earth, longing to find the tip of the root. To get it all out. I removed my gloves and really dug in, all the while my eyes being opened to the condition of my own heart. I never found the tips of those roots. I labored hard, working my hands to blisters. But my effort wasn't enough. Let me dig out the weeds. Put down your tools. Let me labor. My effort is more than enough.  See the hardening of my heart didn't happen over night and wasn't going to be cured with a quick surface weeding.  Nope- it is gonna take time.  It's gonna be long, dirty, and sometimes require painful digging.

But it is not about my effort - the preparation, the planting, the weeding. It is about my relationship with the Gardener. It isn't about the perfection of my bed or the bounty of my blooms. My Gardner doesn't care about the outside. It's the heart He desires.  So for now, today, I will put aside my gloves, my spade, and yes, my Round Up.  I'm going to lay them down at the feet of the One who can do infinitely better than my tools and cares enough to weed me out.

Falling on deaf ears?

Thad has a clock in his room and strict instructions not to come downstairs before 7AM. For the most part, he is obedient to this rule. Thursday morning, however, he chose poorly.

I jumped as a pair of tiny freezing hands were placed on my arm. Groggy, I glanced at the clock. 6:24. I open my eyes just wide enough to see two small boys peering back at me.
"Up Mommy. Up!" says my smallest of offspring (he is precious, but a little less so at 6:24 in the morning.)
"Can you get us some juice and chocolate milk?"
"It is NOT 7 yet."
"Appa juice Mommy"
"Not til 7"
"Please"
"Pease!"
"Mommy cannot be nice before 7. Please go away." I immediately felt guilty for my word choice, but what I heard next broke my heart.
"Mommy isn't ready to get up Hudson. We gotta go away." Sounds much harsher out of the mouth of a four year old.

There is no magic in 7AM, but I have convinced myself that it is a reasonable time to rise and anything earlier than that is simply unacceptable. Surprisingly, they chose obedience and indeed went away. What happened next blew my mind.

I heard some shuffling around in the kitchen and decided I should try to listen to them. "Gonna have to get a juice box Hudson." Thad was searching for some source of liquid refreshment. After he found it I hear "Hudson, gotta find the blue thing. Without it you can't have a juice box. You'll make a mess." Thad is diligently searching for Hudson's juice box holder but coming up empty. "Sorry buddy. Can't give you a box without the blue thing. You'll just have to wait for Mommy to get up." Long pause "Wait let me check the sink." I hear more shuffling. "Got it! Here Hudson." After a few quiet moments, presumably spent drinking from the juice boxes I hear, "You have to be really careful with this key Hudson. It belongs to Mrs. Mary and if you lose it, we won't be able to get into her house. Be careful, okay?"

At this point, I am so stunned, that I am fully awake. Jason is stirring, so I know he's awake too. "Did you hear any of that?" I asked him. "It just proves that he does listen to you," he responds. There's my proof. Though they often argue with me, choose disobedience, and quarrel with one another, my early morning eavesdropping session showed they have been listening. Maybe they are saving it for a rainy day or early morning, but it's in there!

Later, after putting the bar stool back in it's place (the source of the shuffling sounds) and hanging Mrs. Mary's key back on the hook (that thankfully wasn't lost), I told Thad I was proud of his big brother skills. Frustrated that they were showcased before 7AM, but super proud!

Men are from Mars...

I've heard this saying for years but had an up close experience just the other day...

I am a slob by nature. That shouldn't come as a surprise to any of you, but I am just recently coming to grips with it. In my head, everything has its own home, is color coded, and life runs smoothly. Too bad I don't live in my head. I have been riding this roller coaster of stressful disastrous living and crazy cleaning lady living, never finding that nice smooth coasting speed. So, I have caved in and hired a professional organizer. That's right, a professional. She is great! This is a wonderful godly woman who has used her tendencies to be a clean freak for the betterment of the community. She has come to my home, assessed my needs, assembled a plan, and will hopefully be coming to help me get things underway very soon. I am thrilled beyond measure. I am seeing some hope of victory over this demon of a junk problem that I have. I am praying for a revolution! My husband, however, thinks this is silly. To his defense, he has never said this out loud, but in his head I know he is thinking "you are home all day, honey... tell me again why you are having trouble with this." He just doesn't get it.

I have recently become excited about gardening (not like hanging out in it all day or anything, just having pretty things that actually live!) and the appearance of my lawn. My daddy always kept the lawn well manicured - I have very vivid memories of my dad with a lawn mower. I apparently, unknowingly, I brought that expectation into my marriage. Jason doesn't appear to have that same passion. It has proven an area of frustration in our lives, to be quite honest. The other day, I found him researching riding mowers.

"Whatcha doing?" (partly out of curiosity, partly sarcastic)
"Looking at mowers on Craig's List."
"Oh. Why?" (still sarcastic)
"Just looking."

In my head I'm thinking, "you are a strong, young man. Why don't you just suck it up and push mow that yard? Afterall, it's great cardio, right?" I just didn't get it.

Then it clicked! His desire to have that mower was just like my desire to hire an organizer. Truth be known, I could dig down deep (really, really deep) and tackle the mound 'o laundry in the house. I really could get it all sorted and find a workable way to keep it under control. But it is really hard for me. A struggle, even. Therefore, it just doesn't always get done. Mowing is the same for him. Really, he is perfectly capable of push mowing the yard and keeping it tidy. He can walk around the back yard for two hours dodging dog poop and kids toys to chop down the jungle. But it is really frustrating for him. Miserable, really. Therefore, it doesn't always get done.

Though we may not totally understand each other, we are willing to invest a little cash into helping life be a little less stressful, a little more tidy, and lot more fun!

So here's to professional organizers and riding mowers!

A fresh start (take 3!)

I have been reading lots of blogs as of late, hoping to be inspired. I want to be good at this. To be witty and write with eloquence. To have an exciting blog that my family and friends want to read (and can count on being updated!). But I really struggle with what to write about - I mean, who wants to read the crazy details about the Transformers reenacting and endless discussions about brotherly love? My vain attempts at organizing my home or even getting the laundry done? I don't have great moments of pondering in the shower, a beautiful new baby's firsts to share, deep inspiring reflections about the Lord, or a child in present need of a medical miracle like the blogs I follow. I just live an ordinary, toddler inspired, chaotic life in cozy NC.

I have come to realize, however, that I am thankful for my non-eventful stay-at-home life. Thankful for the diaper blow-outs and petty arguments that I deem "drama." Thankful that, though these many godly bloggers that I follow are wise beyond their years, I am able to learn many lessons through their lives and not my own painful experience. That, for this season, this day, the Lord has sheltered me from anything more dramatic.

So, for now, my posts will continue to be about the humdrum of life at the Ledford house. I believe I will shift my focus to actually posting, instead!

Here are some recent pics, from our daily craziness, to make your visit worthwhile...